


A Loophole in Limbo

by BebopHeadshop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Background Hapi/Constance von Nuvelle, Background Hilda Valentine Goneril/Leonie Pinelli, Complicated Relationships, Eventual Smut, M/M, Non-binary character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BebopHeadshop/pseuds/BebopHeadshop
Summary: A century after turning him into a vampire, Yuri comes to Ashe to collect on the bloody debt he incurred all those years ago.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	1. Into the Middle We Go

Ashe sat before the gravestone, placing the violets he’d spent most of the night collecting in the forest down before it. After all this time he still found it strange to be placing flowers in front of his own grave. But even more so he found it narcissistic, his own favorites sitting in front of the polished stone. The flowers remained perked up against it, still blissfully unaware that this would soon be their grave, too.

But despite his own discomfort, his great grand-nieces and nephews seemed to enjoy finding them here, so he persevered through it each year. The night before his birthday he'd come to this grave and repeat the routine, placing the flowers and then waiting nearby in the forest until the wee hours of the morning when the sun’s first rays of light began to sheepishly peek through the canopy of the trees. He’d listen to their exclamations and excitement as they yelled into the forest, thanking the spirit that always took care of the grave of their dear old Uncle Ashe, the hero who died saving their village. He’d always smile as he hid among the trees, even as the sun’s light welted and burned his skin. When the pain threatened to tear a yell out of him he would finally retreat, slipping further and further into the thicket that smothered any light that dare tried to break through.

But still Ashe repeated it each year, cherishing the opportunity to see how his family had grown, to see the goodness that his siblings had left behind in the world before they themselves left it for good. Their graves were closer to the village, just on the border of the forest. They were swallowed by flowers, dazzling pinks, blues, and yellows, all flourishing and unblemished in the ample sunlight offered to them.

Ashe folded his legs beneath him, head lowered. If everything were truly right in the world, he would be lying under there, his grave no longer haunted by a ghost.

He looked away from the grave and down the path that ran through the forest. He could faintly make out small flashes of orange and yellow from the village. Even from here he could smell the smoke from the fires, could imagine the meals that were being prepared for tomorrow. He could almost hear the voices, too, words of excitement and merriment from children, their parents urgently trying to usher them to bed.

But only almost. 

So it was the silence that sat here with him, disturbed occasionally by the shrill whistle of wind that ever so often shook the trees above him. The leaves rustled, singing with the breeze before settling down once more. In the midst of their chorus he’d thought he heard his name being called.

“Songbird, you there? You haven’t gone deaf with old age, right?”

Ashe startled at the sound, unmistakingly lilting and melodic. It rose up, hovering as it bided its time, until it suddenly dove down and striked at just the right moment: the sing-song call of a bird of prey.

Ashe turned around and stood, shock holding his voice captive in his throat.

They emerged from the path that led through the forest. The long black coat draped over them only disturbed by the frilly white collar and cuffs poking through. They were matched in color by the long riding boots that ended just above their knees. Well, Ashe _guessed_ that they stopped above their knees, but it was impossible to tell what was hidden under that long coat.

 _It was probably an intentional choice_ , Ashe thought. He watched as they sauntered towards him with one hand planted on their hip, stopping just a few feet short from Ashe’s reach, but close enough that his eyes could still get their fill.

Ashe had to guess that the sickly sweet scent of vanilla he picked up on was intentional too, considering that it was just short of concealing the scent of blood that clung to them.

 _A well-fed hawk_.

They looked Ashe up and down once before chuckling. “You didn’t respond to your name and yet you responded to _songbird?_ ” They waved a hand in front of their face. “I guess all these decades have changed you, hm?”

Ashe opened his mouth to speak, but the intermingled taste of vanilla and blood that filled his mouth made him want to gag.

They looked away from his gaping mouth and over Ashe’s shoulder. Their eyes roamed over the gravestone, seemingly counting each blemish that marred it. Ashe imagined that they included his own name in that number.

“Well, I certainly didn’t take you for the narcissistic type.”

Ashe swallowed down the taste of vanilla and blood and bile. 

“Why are you here, Yuri?”

One of their eyebrows perked up. “He speaks! Hello, to you too, friend.”

Ashe raised a hand. “Don’t.”

“Calm down, calm down, now,” Yuri laughed, hiding their hands within the pockets of their coat. “I didn’t come here for trouble.”

“A first, then?” Ashe turned back around, once more facing the gravestone. “I suppose we’ve both changed.” He sat down, stray petals from the violets falling victim to his restless fingers.

Ashe could feel Yuri’s eyes digging into his back. He felt exposed, knowing that they noticed his shuffling hands, the way he shuddered each time he heard Yuri move behind him. The burning trails they left as they scoured over him raised painful goose-flesh that rivaled the burns left by the sun’s light. He wouldn’t play this game any longer, wouldn’t wait for Yuri to unravel him and force his hand. 

Ashe cleared his throat. “What do you want?”

“You, of course. Why else would I be in this dreary forest?”

Ashe sighed. “What do you want with me?”

“Come join me and the others in Garreg Mach.”

 _Garreg Mach_ , that damnable town that had unfortunately marred the skyline for miles around these parts. When Ashe had first been there all those years ago, it was barely more than a church and a couple scattered bars and inns. Nowadays you had to walk around town for at least half-an-hour before you could spot a single steeple amidst the smoke and brothels that consumed the town.

“I’ll pass,” Ashe replied.

“Now Ashe, you and I both know that I wasn’t asking.”

“So you’re ordering me around now.”

“Ah, don’t be like that,” Yuri replied. Ashe heard their footsteps circling behind him as they began to pace. “No one’s seen you there in damn near a century and that means you’ve got fresh eyes. And I need someone who can see what I’m missing.”

Ashe raised an eyebrow, but then shook his head; he wouldn’t participate in this game. “Then turn some other street urchin and make them do your bidding.”

“New vampires are too chaotic, you know that. And besides…”

Ashe heard Yuri’s footsteps over the soft ground as they closed the distance between them. He felt Yuri run their fingers through his hair before tucking a stray lock behind his ear, grimacing at the way it made him shiver.

And then he felt the lips at his temple, and the chill was replaced by the stifling heat that pooled within him; he didn’t dare turn around. 

The hand moved to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re the one who owes me a debt, _Ashe_.” Their grip tightened. “And why drag innocents into this when I have you?”

The sigh that had been building within Ashe slipped from his mouth. His eyes swept over the grave, to the lights burning in the distance, beckoning and repelling him all at once.

He turned to face Yuri, shrugging their hand off his shoulder. 

“Fine. What do you need?”

The smile that had twisted Yuri’s pink lips since the moment they had emerged from the path finally left their face. 

“It’s Balthus.”

Ashe’s heart sank, even further into his chest than when he’d first recognized Yuri’s voice those few short moments ago.

“W-what happened to him..?”

Yuri sighed, looking down at the ground before them. “He’s missing. I need you to find out if he’s alive or dead.”

“How long has he been missing?”

“About three weeks now. Sent him on a job in the city and he never came back.”

“And you’re sure he didn’t just run off, sick of all the debts you’ve saddled him with over the years?”

Yuri’s hand lurched forward, quick enough that Ashe had barely registered the movement. It found its place on his shoulder, occupying the same position it had taken up before. But the crushing grip behind it was new. “Now _that’s_ interesting for you to say. Tell me songbird, when did you and Balthus last get to talking about _me_?”

“I can tell you it was more than three weeks ago.”

And then Yuri laughed, the bulge in their throat bobbing up and down arrhythmically with the sound. When they finally stopped, their crimson eyes locking with Ashe’s own, the stray tears in them barely hid the boiling rage hidden within their depths.

So they smiled, pushing it back out of view. But Ashe knew that they were just waiting for the right moment to unleash it and let it burn them both again.

“Fine, hold your cards to your chest friend. That’ll probably save you in the city this time.”

“And you’re sure he’s still in the city?”

“Garreg Mach’s changed a lot more than you think. So many different clans have infiltrated the place within the last few decades… I fear Balthus might’ve gotten wrangled up in something or other related to them; you know he likes his drinking and brawling.” Yuri winked at Ashe, then folded their arms. “It’s one thing for a lone vampire to go around stirring up trouble, but for someone of my status to do the same...”

 _So that was it_. “You need me to go digging around for you so you can continue playing nice with the other clans?”

Yuri chuckled, their hands returning to their pockets once again. “Well now, I wouldn’t call it ‘playing nice,’ but look how quickly you catch on! No one outside of my inner circle knows of our… affiliation, so you’re the perfect man for the job.”

“You think people won’t start catching on when I start asking around about Balthus?”

A smirk tugged at one corner of Yuri’s mouth. “By the time people start ‘catching on’ you’ll have already ended up with a stake in your chest. I trust you’ll be discreet.”

“And you find that amusing?”

“Oh songbird, losing any of my people would sting.”

“I’m not one of _your_ people,” Ashe replied, a scowl sharpening his features.

Yuri barked out a laugh. “Think of it however you want then, but you owe me a debt and I’m here to collect.”

Ashe sighed. “Well, if I’m to keep a low profile in the city, how am I supposed to contact you if I find him?”

“Preparations have already been made. You’ll be staying at Nuvelle’s. Leave any messages with the hostess and she’ll get them to me,” Yuri said. Their eyes roamed up and down Ashe, “You do remember that place, right?”

Despite his better instincts, Ashe felt heat rise to his cheeks.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Yuri replied, their breathy words barely audible over the breeze.

Ashe looked away from their eyes and towards the ground at their feet. “If you’ve said your piece then go. I’ll leave tomorrow night.”

“No, you’ll leave tonight.”

“I have things to handle here; I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Yuri laughed. “Again, this isn’t a negotiation.” They stepped forward, running their hands down the front of Ashe’s shirt and smoothing the fabric. They leaned in close, Ashe’s skin tickled by their breaths.

“What use do you find in burning yourself like this every year? Know that you’ll do far, far more good searching for a missing friend than prettying up your own grave for people who don’t even know the _real_ you.”

“So, you’ve been keeping tabs on me this whole time?”

“Well, you can’t collect a debt from a dead man,” Yuri whispered, their words filling the small space between them.

Ashe scoffed. “Sure, but don’t think you know anything about me just because you’ve been spying from the shadows all these years.”

"Really?" Yuri’s hand stopped over Ashe’s heart, eyes locking with his own for just an instant. And suddenly Ashe was back in that dingy bar filled with smoke, returned to that moment when their eyes had met for the first time all those years ago. Ashe’s eyes were still green then, Yuri’s favorite shade if what they said that night had been true.

Ashe hated that he wondered what they thought of his eyes now.

Yuri searched Ashe’s face. “I think I know enough.”

They brought their hands down to their sides, taking a step back and turning away from Ashe.

“Listen songbird, you have the rest of your life to participate in this self-flagellation; all you need to do is repay your debt, and then you’re free to return to… whatever you think _this_ is.”

Yuri began walking back towards the path, dry leaves crumpling under their boots with each step. They stopped once they reached the path, turning their head back to glance at Ashe one more time.

“Just be thankful that I’m only asking for one favor for the two lives you took.” And then with a final wave they vanished, swallowed by the trees.

Ashe was once again left alone with the silence. The only proof that Yuri had even been there was the faint scent of vanilla and blood that still lingered in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Tags are a little sparse now, but I'll be updating them with each new chapter; I have most of the major characters and pairings tagged already though. Any relevant content warnings will be added to the beginning notes of each chapter, so you won't have to scour the tags each time.


	2. Nuvelle's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe arrives in Garreg Mach and heads to Nuvelle's. There he meets a few of the city's residents, who mostly remind him how much he hates this city.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the roofs in Garreg Mach, its light slowly creeping into the streets and alleys below, when Ashe finally arrived at Nuvelle’s. As he had traveled down the main road, he had been bombarded by all of the new changes in the city. The many winding roads that broke off from the main street, the fact that he needed to crane his head all the way back to even see the sky slowly beginning to fill with light beyond the rooftops... they all made his head spin. But despite that, Nuvelle’s was still where it always had been and Ashe was able to follow the main road and make his way to the inn.

Back then being the only inn in town with a half-decent guitar player and a basement bar that served imported beer qualified you as the best of the best. Now, based on the different establishments Ashe had passed by on his brief tour through the city, the competition had tightened. But Nuvelle’s had seemingly risen to the occasion. 

When Ashe first pulled the golden handle on door, the familiar creak that he had come to expect from years of working at the bar was only a faint memory. As were the squeaks of the floorboards, which were now repaired and covered by a thick crimson rug. Ashe had instinctively held his breath when he stepped into the building, expecting the familiar funk of tobacco smoke to be billowing in the air. But when he finally relaxed and allowed himself to take in a deep breath, all he could smell was the sweet scent of the candle sitting at the counter across from him.

Ashe walked forward toward it. There was a waist-high gate connected to it which barricaded the way into a small room filled with filing cabinets and bookshelves. Off in the corner, beyond the table in the center of the room stacked with papers and keys, he could see a door leading further into the building. He guessed that it led to the hostess’s quarters. But within the room itself, the hostess was nowhere to be seen. And without a bell or means to get their attention, he figured he just had to wait.

Ashe gripped the guitar strap resting over his chest as he shuffled on his feet, feeling the familiar weight press against his back. It was the one thing he had brought with him from his home back in the forest and it was also the only possession worth taking from that shack. He made do with what he could, sealing all of the holes in the roof as they appeared over the years to block out the sun and crafting just enough furniture to fit his daily needs. He’d long decided that he had indulged enough with Yuri to fill a lifetime or two… or however many he had run through by now. So the shack had sufficed.

But one morning a stray traveler had barged into his hut and Ashe awoke to his own screams as the sunlight tore at his skin. He wished that he still had the scars on his back that the stranger had marked him with as he clawed for his life. But when his blood had gushed down Ashe’s throat, it had sated his hunger and healed his wounds. Ashe had stayed awake for hours after that, the man's lifeless eyes fixed on him as they both waited for the sun to go down so that he could bury the body.

After that, he built the basement.

Ashe jumped as he heard the door in the back of the small room creak open, diverting his gaze up from his feet and into the room. Through the gap Ashe could make out a pair of crimson eyes scanning from behind the doorway. When the eyes locked with his own they jutted open. 

Then the door was slammed shut.

“Um… hello?” Ashe asked, leaning over the counter and peaking further into the room.

He didn’t get an answer. He heard a loud thunk, followed by a series of muffled swears, before the door suddenly burst open again and a red haired woman emerged. Her shirt and pants were ruffled, a few of the buttons on her black blouse still unbuttoned, as if she’d just been woken up.

She gave Ashe a once over before walking forward and standing before him, a scowl plastered on her face.

“What do ya want?” she asked as she folded her arms.

“Oh, hello,” Ashe said, gripping the guitar strap tighter. “I, um, have a reservation for room 401.”

Her scowl melted as her mouth opened in a small circle. She looked Ashe up and down once more, as if seeing him for the first time.

“So you’re the one staying in the penthouse.”

“Yes, I suppose that’d be me.”

“Gotcha,” she replied before rummaging through the stack of papers on the desk. Some escaped from the pile as she combed through them, flying across the desk and floor. She eventually found what she was looking for, pulling out a single sheet with a flourish and bringing it to her face.

“That’ll be 3,000 gold per night, and you need to put down 1000 immediately.”

Ashe’s eyes widened. “W-wait, I was told that my accommodations were already taken care of!”

“Yeah, someone made the reservation for you but they didn’t _pay_.” She reached her hand out to him. “So hand over the down payment.”

Ashe swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and heat rising to his cheeks. His fist clenched around the strap across his chest, his knuckles pulled taut and white.

_Yuri…_

The red haired woman watched him with her head slightly cocked to the side, her outstretched hand still in front of him. “Well..?”

Ashe returned his attention to her. “I-I’m sorry, but I don’t have the money.” He turned around and began walking to the entrance of the inn. “I’ll figure something else out.” 

But with the sun already rising, that would probably mean ducking into some nearby alley for the day unless he was lucky and could find an entrance to the tunnels that ran under the city. Ashe had just reached the door and begun turning the knob when a loud sigh emerged from behind him.

“Don’t leave, Freckles, I was just messing with ya.”

Ashe spun on his heels, practically sprinting back to the counter.

“Wait, _what_?”

“I’m not the damn hostess, obviously,” she replied, shrugging. She raised each of her legs over the gate and placed herself at Ashe’s side. “You just looked pretty gullible. Guess I got that right.”

Ashe glowered. 

“Then would you kindly tell the hostess that I’m here so that I can go to my room and get settled in for the day?” 

“Ah, don’t look so glum. Besides, she should be out any minute now-”

“I am here!” Ashe heard a billowing voice from behind the counter. He quickly diverted his gaze away from the redhead and looked back into the room behind the gate. A blonde woman emerged from it. Her skirt was ruffled and her blonde waves mussed, the purple strands intermingled in them wildly jutting out in all directions.

 _Guess she wasn’t sleeping_ , Ashe thought as he shot a quick glance at the woman at his side. She was glaring at him.

Ashe turned back to face the blonde and cleared his throat. “Hello, I have a reservation for room 401.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Christophe Lonato! I’ll take you right to your room!” The blonde woman walked forward to the counter. She placed her hand over her chest as she introduced herself. “I am Constance von Nuvelle, the owner of this grand establishment. If you need anything, feel free to call on me at any time!”

“Not at _any_ time…” the redhead mumbled.

Constance’s smile dipped just slightly as she turned to the other woman. Constance leaned over the desk, taking one of her hands in her own. 

“Hapi, could you be a dear and pick up all these forms for me while I show Mr. Lonato to his room?”

Hapi’s face smoothed over, irritation replaced by boredom. “Sure, Coco.”

Constance moved to unlock the small gate next to the desk. She held it open for Hapi, planting a quick peck on her face before locking it behind her when she entered the room. As Hapi knelt down to begin picking up the papers strewn across the room she looked back up at Ashe, keeping her eyes trained on him. 

Ashe shifted on his feet until Constance tapped him on his shoulder, beckoning him towards the stairs. “Let us be on our way!” she said as she motioned him up the stairs. As they began to ascend Ashe looked down the other set of stairs adjacent to them, leading to the bar below. They disappeared out of view as the pair headed past the second floor. Ashe could see the long hallways stretched before them, paintings and mirrors lining every wall. He wondered if they were hiding the holes in the walls or if those had been repaired along with the front door and floorboards.

Constance’s shrill voice filled the stairway and grabbed his attention again. “As you can see, there are no windows in the hallways in order to accommodate our vampire guests. There are a few in the dining room and on the third floor rooms, which are reserved for humans, so be sure to exercise caution if you are strolling around throughout the day or,” she turned her head to look at back him, “if you are visiting a human companion.”

Ashe blushed and ducked his head. “I’m here for business, but thanks for the heads up.”

She chuckled, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “My dear, _everyone_ says that until they get a taste of Garreg Mach’s nightlife!”

The stairs ended as the pair reached the top floor. Two large doors greeted him at the end of the short hallway leading from the stairs. Constance led him forward, stopping and turning around to face him once they reached the doors. She raised her hand and gestured to the right.

“This is your room, Mr. Lonato!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key, handing it to Ashe. “The person who reserved your room made sure your accommodations were set, so you have a full wardrobe provided for you! But of course, if you need _anything_ , please do not hesitate to ask!”

She waved and began to walk back toward the stairs when a blur of onyx and turquoise bounded up the stairs and barreled past her. In his haste the person bumped into Ashe, sending him spiraling backwards and, even more disappointingly, falling onto his ass. The man turned around abruptly, amber eyes framed by dark locks meeting with Ashe’s for just a moment.

“Sorry about that,” the man muttered before unlocking his door and slamming it shut behind him. Ashe heard a soft click as the lock fell into place.

Ashe stared at the door for a few seconds as Constance rushed back to his side, helping him back up. “Um, are all of your guests like that?” Ashe asked as he readjusted his guitar on his back.

Constance’s smile faltered again, struggling to curve her cheeks. “No, but you should consider yourself lucky! _That_ is the most I have heard him speak in the month he’s been here!” She laughed, waving her hand around as if physically trying to break the tension. “He seems to prefer grunts and scowls.”

“Well then, I’ll try to consider it a positive. Thank you for your hospitality, Constance,” Ashe replied before reaching to unlock his door. He caught himself just before entering the room.

“And sorry for interrupting you and... Hapi, was it? Earlier, I mean.”

He waved and entered his room before she had time to respond, but her reddened cheeks were enough of an answer.

Ashe closed the door behind him, locking it before taking off his guitar and leaning it against the corner of the wall. His shoulder still hurt from where the man had bumped into him. But what made his eyebrows furrow more than the slight sting in his shoulder was the man’s _scent._ Humans always smelled like blood, but his scent also reeked of smoke. It lingered in Ashe’s nostrils and made his eyes water. But he figured that would just be something he would have to get used to in Garreg Mach. _Along with the rudeness_ , Ashe contended as he rubbed his shoulder.

Sighing, he headed to the bathroom. He took his time washing his face and brushing his teeth, the monotony relaxing some of the tension in his shoulders. He gave the bathtub a once over but decided that he was too tired and headed to his bed instead.

Ashe crawled into the sheets. They were much softer and more comforting than the threadbare ones he had grown accustomed to. _Like sleeping on a cloud_ , he had thought the first time he had stayed in this penthouse all those years ago, finally able to experience what the wealthier patrons of the bar always gloated about. But, on second thought, those sheets from back then were nothing compared to the ones currently wrapped around him. He rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Everything about the inn was better than he remembered, with all of the new repairs and fancy gold paint. He had considered the penthouse the height of decadence when he’d first stayed here a century ago, and now it had outdone even that naive memory.

In every way but one, at least.

This time he didn’t have another body pressed closely against him. He didn’t have skilled hands roaming over his skin, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling it just taut enough to send a shiver through his body. And he certainly didn’t have pink lips leaving trails of lipstick down from his neck, over his abdomen, and to his-

“Gah!” Ashe exclaimed, pulling off his sheets and jumping out of bed. He strode across the room and grabbed his guitar, seating himself on the floor as he fiddled with the tuning keys until each string rang true. He took a deep breath and began to strum, his rapid heartbeat slowly beginning to settle.

…

Ashe awoke the next night under plush sheets, having eventually dragged his exhausted body back to bed. Playing his guitar had eventually relaxed him to the point that he could get comfortable in the bed again without having to suppress _those_ thoughts. But that didn’t stop his unconscious mind from dreaming of that time years ago when he had first taken the hand of Nuvelle's newest patron and allowed them to lead him to their room. As a human the memories had brought a smile to his face and a blush to his cheeks, making the long sets in the smoke filled bar worth it for the chance to see his favorite patron again. As a vampire they turned his stomach, or at least that’s what he attributed the overwhelming fluttering in his belly to.

Ashe washed up in the bathroom before inspecting the contents of the wardrobe that Constance had mentioned the previous morning. All of the clothing was nondescript but nicely made, the perfect wear for blending in with the crowds. After dressing, he headed for the door and found a thick white envelope on the floor before it, likely having been slipped through the mail slot. Ashe hesitated for a moment before leaning down to pick it up. It was heavier than he expected. On the front he found “Christophe” written in swirling cursive.

He quickly broke the seal and opened the envelope, finding a few handfuls of gold coins and two sheets of paper. He removed the first page, the same swirling handwriting covering from the envelope covering the letter. It began:

“Hey Songbird,

"Hope you’ve enjoyed your first evening in the city. A lot’s changed hasn’t it? I’m sure finding Nuvelle’s was easy enough, pretty much a straight shot to the heart of the Garreg Mach. But that’s where the simplicities end for you, my friend. I’ve included a map to help you find your way around along with some gold (don’t worry, I'm not adding this to your debt). But more importantly, I’ve marked the territories of the different clans.”

Ashe stopped reading the letter for a moment to look at the second sheet of paper folded in the envelope. Sure enough it was a map with thin layers of watercolor demarcating the different areas of the town. Red, green, purple, and gray territories wrestled against one another.

Ashe continued reading the letter:

“Balthus went missing in Black Eagle territory, in the west.”

Ashe looked at the crimson that virtually controlled the entirety of the western portion of the map. A black star was located on that part of the map, right on the border between the gray and red territories.

“His mission was to investigate some human gangs that we heard the Black Eagles were attempting to form an alliance of sorts with. I’d suggest investigating there first, but exercise caution, friend. They’re liable to attack any vampires they consider to be even a slight threat.”

Ashe gulped, but continued:

“Verdant territory is pretty safe; the Blue Lions and Golden Deer just merged and things are in a state of flux, so you’ll probably be given the benefit of the doubt if you head there. Probably.”

Ashe rolled his eyes, but noted it. Green covered the most significant area of the map.

“The Mauve Pythons are dangerous. They’re partnered with the church so I’d advise against going there.”

The purple portion of the map had a distinct border drawn around it in black ink. Ashe made a mental note to not travel within three blocks of it.

"And finally, you have us. Sorry songbird, I didn’t include a map of the tunnels. Can’t have that info getting into the wrong hands, you know? Stay aboveground for now and lay low while investigating. But if push comes to shove, search for an entrance and head down into the tunnels.”

Although the gray territory on the map was by far the smallest, Ashe knew that Yuri’s true claim to fame was the underground tunnel system that ran under the city. They had been building it when they first arrived in the city all those years ago and often gushed about it while curled up with Ashe during day, explaining to him its intricacies and what it would be like when construction was finally completed. Ashe had yawned and nodded along, mostly just watching how Yuri’s lips curled around each word as they spoke. Now Ashe wished he had paid more attention. 

Having reached the end of the letter, Ashe prepared to place it back into the envelope when he noticed the sentence written on the back.

“P.S. Hope you enjoyed your first day here. That room sure does bring back memories, doesn’t it?”

Ashe stuffed the letter back in the envelope quickly before stashing it in his wardrobe. He folded the map and placed it in his pocket along with a handful of gold before unlocking his door and heading out into the hallway. The door across from his was shut, the scent of blood and the city no longer crowding the small space between them.

So Ashe took a deep breath, relishing the fresh air before descending down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was actually the first half of a giant (by my standards haha) chapter that was already written, so the next chapter will be out faster than this one. 
> 
> Anyway I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Catatune) if you want to chat.


	3. A Night on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe goes bar hopping.

Ashe walked down the stairs, gliding down the last steps and heading for the door before being stopped in his tracks by Constance calling out to him from behind the desk.

“Are you heading out into the city already, Mr. Lonato?”

Ashe stopped and turned back toward her. “Yes, I have a few errands to run today.”

Constance turned around and reached for something behind her. When she turned back to face him, Ashe could see a glass filled with red liquid in her hand.

“Better to leave on a full stomach, then,” she responded with a smile.

Ashe shuffled on his feet, feeling the map and coins in his pocket shift as he did. He was anxious to get out into the city, but giving his hostess the cold-shoulder didn't seem like the best idea, especially considering that he didn’t know yet how long he'd be relying on her care.

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Ashe responded as he walked over to the desk. He took the glass from Constance and brought it to his mouth. The blood had just wet his lips when the back door in the room flew open.

And standing in the open doorway was Hapi, the glare that Ashe was becoming all too familiar plastered on her face. “That better not be mine,” she said, the words somewhat muffled by a yawn.

Ashe cast a quick glance at Constance. But she simply sighed, twisting around to grab another glass. Ashe could see that many similar glasses filled with red liquid were sitting on a tray behind her. She walked over and handed the glass to Hapi.

“Dear, you know that my dinner rounds do not begin for another ten minutes. There is no need for such antagonism.”

Hapi smiled before taking a sip. “But look at him. Freckles is practically shivering just from seeing me. I’m just priming him for the city.”

“You say that as if there are... _crooks_ waiting around every corner of this city!”

“Exactly. And probably worse things then crooks, too.”

“Hapi, that is an abominable attitude to have!” Constance reprimanded. She turned around, flashing Ashe a strained smile. 

“I assure you, Mr. Lonato, that there are many wonderful and _safe_ locales within Garreg Mach. If you can inform me of where you are going, I can advise you on the safest and most beautiful routes that lead to your destination.”

Ashe sighed, placing his glass down. “I’m meeting up with someone in the western part of town.”

Constance’s eyes practically sprang from their sockets.

Hapi’s eyebrows jumped up.

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Ashe said, hanging his head.

Hapi stepped forward and pointed to the glass on the desk before him. “Well, drink up, Freckles. If you’re going there you’re gonna need to be at the top of your game. Otherwise, Edelgard’s cronies are gonna－”

“Hapi!” Constance shouted, grabbing Hapi’s hand and interrupting her from drawing a line across her throat with her thumb. 

Constance looked back up at him. “Enjoy your drink, Mr. Lonato. Feel free to leave the glass wherever you would like.” She began dragging Hapi off to the back room. She turned around before slipping into the doorway. “And good luck!”

Ashe gulped before downing the rest of the blood from the glass. The heavy weight in his stomach distracted him from the gooseflesh rising on his skin. Ashe placed the empty glass back on the desk and turned away, heading for the door.

Ashe made his way out of the door and was immediately greeted by the stench of smoke and grime as cars sped down the streets. Ashe pulled his hat down lower onto his head and headed west. It was only around eight at night now, enough time for plenty of humans to still be prowling around the city. But it was still a little too early for most vampires to be meandering around idly.

So instead of heading immediately to the bar Yuri had marked on the map, Ashe decided to scope out some other locations that he could eventually check for more information on Balthus's disappearance. He wandered around the border of the Ashen Wolves territory. Closer to the heart of the city and Nuvelle’s were administrative buildings. But as he headed further west, the buildings transitioned from large, stately behemoths to smaller, snug buildings nestled closely together. The foreboding, multi-story buildings morphed into inviting bookstores, cafes, and restaurants. Ashe walked past them quickly, noting a few places he might visit if he had the time… and survived long enough to enjoy them. But despite his own interest, he knew they wouldn’t be places Balthus frequented. From their time spent together Ashe knew the kind of people Balthus preferred to spend most of his time with: drinking men with too tight shirts and dancing women with low cut tops. Once he found enough exposed skin he knew he’d be on the right track. 

As he pushed through the streets, the number of people clad in fancy suits with briefcases in hand began to thin out as they were replaced by crowds of loose collars and short skirts. Looking around, many of the buildings were decorated with signs displaying mugs of beer. Some even had their signs obscured by brawling drunkards at the front door.

 _Bingo_. 

Ashe ducked into one of the bars, the plume of smoke even worse inside than it was on the crowded streets. His eyes adjusted quickly to the smoke watering them. He made his way to the far end of the bar, plopping down as he waited to be served.

A dark haired man with a stained apron nodded in Ashe’s direction before turning back around. He grabbed a newspaper sitting on the bar, rolling it up before bringing it down hard on the back of the head of a man collapsed on the bar. The man’s eyes opened, blinking once, then twice, until he slowly rose, drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth. He dug in his pocket and dropped a few coins on the bar before stumbling outside to join the crowds of people on the street.

The bartender shook his head before walking towards Ashe. “What can I get you, sir?” he asked.

“A Kupalan Bourbon would be great,” Ashe replied.

“Oh, you might be in the wrong place if you want that.” The man replied, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh, darn, I was told it was a specialty in this city.”

“Nah, not here,” the bartender replied, slinging his towel over his shoulder. “Is there somethin’ else I can get ya though? We serve pretty much everything. Well. Just not Kupalan Bourbons.”

Ashe hung his head. “Ah, I kind of had my heart set on that...”

The bartender planted his hands on his hips. “Well, if you’re not gonna buy anything, I suggest you move along. I’ve got plenty of paying customers who’d want that seat.”

“Oh right!” Ashe said before jutting up. “Thanks for your um, help.” 

“Anytime,” the bartender replied before turning away from Ashe and moving on to the next customer.

Ashe stood and walked away from the bar, his seat immediately taken by a man who was clearly on his fourth or fifth drink by this point. Ashe shook his head. As he tried to exit the building, a crowd gathered outside blocked his path. He pushed his way through, and after navigating his way through a sea of shoulders that seemed intent on lodging themselves into his ribs, he found himself back on the street. He dusted himself off and staggered onward to the next bar he could find, determined to find the drink.

When Balthus had last visited him about two years ago he had mentioned the drink, exclaiming that he was going to drag Ashe back to Garreg Mach if that’s what it took for him to get a taste of it. 

_“It’s the best booze around, practically the only thing I drink!” Balthus guffawed, moonshine spilling out of his flask as he handed it to Ashe._

_“Except for moonshine?” Ashe asked as he took a swig, his smile curling around the nozzle._

_“Well, yeah, except for moonshine. But you don’t get the good moonshine from the bars in Garreg Mach, buddy. You gotta come out here!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms out wide in front of him as he motioned to the rolling landscape that extended for miles below their spot perched on a sloping hill. His arm collided with their torch, knocking it over and sending it plummeting to the ground._

_“Ah shit!” he yelled, quickly picking it up and frantically stomping out the fire that began to spread around their feet._

_By the time Balthus snuffed out the final flames, Ashe had already collapsed into laughter, unsure if it was the moonshine or the man with his shoe on fire that had managed to pull it out of him._

_“Betcha if you came back to Garreg Mach I could have ya all loose in the collar like that all the time,” Balthus said, a small smile lighting up his crimson eyes even more than the (now upright) torch by his side._

_The bubbling in Ashe’s chest subsided, instead settling in his stomach and making him feel ill. He took an extra swig before handing it back to Balthus._

_“Maybe so.”_

_A large hand rested on Ashe’s shoulder._

_“Listen, I got a few debts on my shoulders over there too, but I've got the gang with me and I’m hanging on. You just think about it alright?”_

_“I think about it too much,” Ashe replied. A sharp breeze disturbed the flames, the shadows it produced writhing around the ground at Ashe’s feet._

_“If this is about Yuri, I can knock a little sense into them if you need me to,” Balthus said, balling his free hand into a tight fist around the flask._

_“Well, then I’d owe you, too.”_

_Balthus turned away from Ashe. He looked to the ground, shrugged, and shook his head._

_“_ _Nah, I wouldn’t charge you for that,” Balthus said before taking another swig. They sat in silence for a few moments afterwards and passed the flask back and forth, the breeze occasionally threatening to snuff out the torch's flames._

_And then Balthus’s smile reappeared on his face. “Did I tell ya about how old Linny made an ass of himself at Hilda and Leonie’s wedding?”_

_“You mean he wasn’t asleep the entire time?” Ashe asked, Balthus’s smile proving to be infectious._

_“Well, after Leonie knocked him out he was! Cleanest hit I’d ever seen! Even told her she should join me in the underground boxing ring sometime!”_

And the rest of the night had been filled with laughter, and more moonshine, until they had eventually dragged themselves back to Ashe’s underground hideout, barely managing to find their way back before the sun rose. 

As Ashe made his way down the street, regret began to well up within him, pooling in his eyes and clouding his vision. 

_He could still be alive_ , Ashe reminded himself, wiping at his eyes as he pressed towards the next bar. He pushed his way down the street, barely avoiding getting his shoes splattered with vomit, before ducking inside.

But it was the same as the last one, with an equally beleaguered barkeep shooing him off after telling him he was out of luck. And the tens of bars he made his way to afterwards repeated the same sequence of events. Each time he exited a bar and headed out in search of the next one, the pit in his stomach deepened. As the night droned on the crowded streets around him became more and more confining, as if something was pushing its way closer and closer to him, threatening to surround and crush him. He found himself checking over his shoulder every few minutes, but all he ever saw were the crowds of drunkards that surrounded him.

So he jumped out of his skin when someone grabbed his hand.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to scare you!” the woman said, a smile curling her glossed lips.

“Oh sorry… just a little on edge,” Ashe replied, swallowing down his anxiety.

The woman moved closer to him, her honey-brown eyes lidded as she stared up into his own. “Well, a little drink and a little company could fix that, don’t you think?” She pressed up against him, her chest flush with his. As she leaned in closer, he could see the twin fang marks lining her neck. His gums twitched excitedly as his tongue reflexively teased over his fangs.

Ashe jutted back, breaking free of her grasp.

“Sorry, but I have to go.” He turned around in a hurry, pulling his hat even further down his head as he sprinted down the street. He moved quickly as he weaved his way through the crowds, now an expert at dodging errant shoulders. Deciding he was a fair distance away, Ashe swung his head around and looked over his shoulder again. The woman and the eyes he constantly felt crawling over his back nowhere to be found. Releasing a sigh of relief, he ducked into the nearest bar he could find.

The smoke hung just as thickly in the air here as it did at any of the other numerous bars he had been to that night. But with a smaller crowd, the smell seemed slightly more bearable.

Ashe made his way to the bar, burying his face in his hands as he waited for the barkeep to notice him. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, rolling them as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Rough night, kid?” a voice asked from in front of him.

He lifted his head and took in the barkeep before him, a devilish smirk curving one corner of her lips and contrasting with the playful glint that lit up her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be here if I was kid,” Ashe replied, the night having driven out any pleasantries he might still have within him.

She began to laugh, her dark ponytail bobbing up and down before slipping over her shoulder as she threw her head back. “Gotcha, _sir_ ,” she began again before bursting into laughter once more.

Ashe narrowed his eyes.

Her laughter faded as she caught his expression, but the smirk still stayed on her face. She rolled her eyes as she turned around, removing a brown bottle from the shelf behind her and pouring it into the small glass she had placed on the bar. Without a word, she pushed the glass over to Ashe.

“I didn’t order that,” he replied as he attempted to push the glass back towards her.

“This one’s on the house, kid,” she said as she winked at him. “For giving you a tough time when you’ve _clearly_ been through the ringer already.”

“Well, thanks,” he said before downing it in one go.

Her eyes widened at that. “Didn’t think you had that in ya!” She extended her hand. “I’m Judith.”

He glanced down at her hand before extending his own, the alcohol already warming his body. “As- Christophe.”

“Haha, maybe you don’t have _that_ much in ya if you’re already stumbling over your name,” she began to guffaw again, but the sound didn’t sting Ashe’s ears as much this time.

Ashe sighed. “It’s just been a long night.”

She leaned over and folded her arms on the bar. “Well, what can I get ya to make it a little more bearable, Christophe?”

“A Kupalan Bourbon would be perfect,” he muttered, already swinging his legs around and preparing to leave.

“Ah, now that’s a classic! Comin' right up!” She turned around and began pulling a few bottles off of the shelf. 

Ashe’s eyes widened. “Oh wait, you really sell those here?”

“You bet your ass we do! Not super popular, but if you have it once, you tend to keep coming back for it.” She winked as she began pouring the contents of a few different bottles into the glass in front of her. “There’s this one guy who used to stop by every night for it. But if you don’t like _me_ , you probably wouldn’t be able to handle him at all.”

Ashe’s eyes perked up. “Well if it’s that good I would think that he’d still be stopping by.”

Judith’s gaze lowered for just a moment before finding Ashe’s eyes once more. She pushed the drink over to him. “Yeah, it’s been a minute, and to be honest I kinda miss his drunken rambles. He really knew how to liven up a slow Thursday night, you know?” She laughed again, but the sound didn’t quite echo throughout the bar like it had earlier.

Ashe lifted his glass. “Well, I hope you get to share another drink with him soon.”

Her smirk returned as she lifted her own glass, clinking it against his. “Me too, and you should be there when we do! Old Balty would be glad to find another alcohol connoisseur like yourself.” She chuckled before bringing the glass to her lips.

“Is that so?” Ashe responded before doing the same, his lips curling into a smile around the glass. 

The sharp taste heated his throat, the spicy sting of the alcohol mixed in with the slightly sweet tang of apples burning a path all the way to his stomach. But it was a pleasant, subdued heat, like torchlight flickering in the breeze.

They finished their drinks in silence. As Judith took his empty glass, Ashe slipped a few coins onto the table before standing up.

“Hey Christophe!” he heard her say as he sauntered towards the door. “Don’t be a stranger now.”

Ashe smiled. “Sure thing, Judith.”

But his smile fell as soon as he stepped out onto the street. He had managed to find one of Balthus’s spots, which could only be useful for future investigations, but the space hung too heavy with Balthus’s energy. And without the man himself there to contain it, it was almost suffocating. Ashe leaned back against the wall of the bar and casually glanced up at the sign. “Judith’s” it read. He straightened his back, pushing off against the wall and heading down the street. At least the alcohol in his system had calmed his nerves a bit, suppressing the compulsion to check the streets around him for a pursuer. 

He dug into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out the map. Tracing his path and comparing the map to his current location, he realized that he must have lost his bearing running away from the woman earlier. He was even closer to Black Eagles territory than he imagined. The stirring in his belly only grew as he passed the invisible border, the sensation of eyes on his back returning.

He moved carefully, trying to match the pace of those around him. Every step further and further west sent his anxiety spiking, making him feel even more off kilter with the alcohol still stirring in his stomach. He considered turning around then, going back and leaving it for another day. But Balthus wouldn’t give up on him, _hadn’t_ given up on him even when he'd isolated himself and pushed everyone away. Balthus had shown up at his door every few years with a jug of moonshine and a handful of stories, always pulling Ashe out of the darkness. Even if it was just for a single night.

Ashe straightened his hat; he would return the favor.

After a few more blocks, Ashe looked up and realized that he had reached his destination: “The Flame Emperor.” He approached the door, prepared to pull on the handle when a blonde giant of a man stepped out in front of him.

“Oh, um, good evening,” Ashe said. He tried to move past the blonde man, but he continued to block his path. His crimson eyes trailed over Ashe, filmed with either indifference or loathing. Ashe hoped it was the former. 

Beads of sweat began to build under Ashe’s collar when the man finally looked away from him, his eyes roaming over the street. He gave one curt nod to Ashe before stepping away from the door and disappearing into the crowd.

Ashe released the breath that had been burning in his chest before opening the door and slipping inside. His eyes were immediately assaulted by all of the red _everywhere_ , on the couches, the tablecloths, and the bar stools. Even the woman working behind the bar had on a crimson dress, it’s deep red contrasting with the pale hue of her skin and hair. She glared at him, her red eyes seething, before turning away to assist the other patrons.

Ashe gulped down the lump in his throat. Looking around he saw a mixture of different eye colors, crimson pairs mixed in between brown and blue ones. But they were all similar in the equally threatening way they followed Ashe’s every movement. 

And the people they belonged to didn’t seem the type for conversation, so Ashe plopped into a chair at an empty table in the corner, giving him the perfect vantage point to observe everyone entering and leaving. It was a long-shot, but if he could find a person of interest he might be closer to solving Balthus’s disappearance. But it certainly didn’t seem like the type of place Balthus would frequent on his own. The suits were too nice and the fabric on the dresses shimmered too much, more disorienting than inviting. He felt as if he’d somehow backtracked and wandered into one of the bars in the administrative district near Nuvelle’s.

He sat in the chair, absentmindedly glancing over the menu. He looked up every so often when a new patron entered the bar or whenever a crimson clad waiter appeared. But no waiter ever actually approached him. They weaved around his table as if he were invisible. Ashe decided it was probably best to not make a scene, so he settled instead for shifting in his seat, hoping the other patrons didn’t pick up on the sweat staining his shirt.

“The drinks written in red ink are the ones with blood in them.”

A cool voice emerging from in front of him sent his eyes shooting up from the menu. He jumped, his chair pushing back just slightly. He looked up to see a woman before him with crimson eyes, pale hair and equally pallid skin. Not unlike the barkeep, except the dress she wore was a deep black with an interlaced design of red and gold silk that formed a dazzling bouquet of roses.

She smiled as she sat down in front of him. “Be at ease, I’m only giving you a little advice.”

 _Doubtful,_ Ashe thought as he attempted to mirror her own smile. “Thank you, I could use all the help I can get, haha.”

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. “You definitely don’t seem like the type to live in this city.”

Her eyes roamed over every inch of his face as she spoke, the soft tone of her voice doing little to ease the pit of dread that had begun to form in his stomach.

_Time to play this game with another bird of prey._

He brought his hand up slowly, resting it against the back of his head. “You got me! I’m a bit of a country boy, so this is all a little new to me.”

“Ah, is this your first time in Garreg Mach?”

“Yes, and it’s quite different from the villages I’m used to, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms in front of her. “Then what brings you here? You don’t seem like the type for whoring and drinking.”

Ashe chuckled, hoping the sound rang truer in her ears than it did in his. “I have a friend who is, though. Supposed to be meeting with him here.”

One of her eyebrows perked up a fraction. A bead of sweat trailed down Ashe’s face.

“Yeah, but knowing him he’s already drunk and forgot to come here…”

“Well, that’s simply unfortunate.” She raised her hand and the barkeep was at her side in a second. “The regular for me. Bring a local red for our friend here, Lysithea,” she said before waving her off. 

She turned back to Ashe. “Well, I don’t think I’m quite as exciting as this friend you’re describing, but I hope you’ll accept my company regardless.”

“Of course,” he replied, his cheeks straining against his smile. “The more the merrier!”

“Excellent. What should I call you, then?”

“My name is Christophe,” Ashe replied, slowly and deliberately. Stumbling over his words here would get him more than just teased, he figured. And besides, the way her lips curved just slightly at his words sobered him up.

“Then it’s nice to meet you, Christophe. My name is Edelgard.”

Despite his prior ability to keep his expression as neutral as possible, Ashe was powerless to stop his eyes from widening at that, incapable of suppressing the sputtering cough that suddenly fought its way out of his throat.

And the blush that spread over his face when practically all of the other patrons in the bar turned their eyes in his direction was equally out of his control.

But Edelgard simply kept smiling, her eyes finally crinkling in turn. “I suppose you have some idea of who I am, then?”

Ashe cleared his throat, glancing back and forth around the bar. The rest of the patrons seemed satisfied with Edelgard’s reaction, turning their attention back to whatever they had been doing prior.

“Of course I’ve heard of the leader of the Black Eagles,” Ashe replied, reaching up to his collar and pretending to fumble with his tie. _She’d probably like a humbled country boy more than a sweating spy._ “I may be from out of town, but I know about－,” he leaned forward, bringing his palm to his mouth as if to smother his words, “the _clans_.”

She chuckled at that. “No need to be so frightened, Christophe.” 

Lysithea returned to the table, placing a wine glass filled with red liquid in front of Edelgard and a stouter glass with dark brown liquid before Ashe. Edelgard waved Lysithea away before continuing to speak. 

“I mean you no harm.” She raised her hand, motioning to Ashe’s glass before picking up her own. “Please drink and ease your mind, if only a little.” She brought the glass to her lips, her eyes never leaving Ashe’s as she sipped.

Ashe reached for his own glass, raising it to his face just as the blonde man from earlier appeared at Edelgard’s side. Ashe jumped, nearly spilling the drink and staining the red tablecloth.

But the man paid him no mind, barely glancing in his direction before leaning down and whispering something into Edelgard’s ear. Her brows furrowed slightly before she waved him off and the man disappeared into a door without a second glance at Ashe.

Edelgard lowered her drink with a sigh. Ashe placed his own on the table, his nerves tingling under his skin. She folded her arms in front of her before looking squarely at Ashe.

“Christophe?”

“Yes?” he asked, his voice cracking at her sullen tone.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she responded. “Were you aware that you were followed here?”

“Wait, what?” Ashe asked, perplexed. He had felt unease throughout the night, but chalked it up to the oppressive crowds and unpleasant interactions he’d endured so far. The fact that he was actually being watched the whole time made his heart gallop in his chest.

“Jeritza just informed me. He said that he noticed someone tailing you when you first arrived here.”

 _Did I already slip up that badly?!_ Suddenly the sick feeling began to bubble up his throat once more.

“I-I don’t understand…”

Edelgard reached over, her hand brushing lightly against his. “Again, we mean you no harm Christophe. Jeritza has handled it.”

“Handled it?”

She gave his hand a light squeeze. “No need to concern yourself with the details.”

_Who had been following me? Someone I don’t know..? Someone I slipped up around… The woman I ran into earlier? Judith? No, that was insane. Who would want to watch me so soon? **Who** even knew what I was doing here?!_

The answer he came up with stopped his heart.

“Christophe, you look awfully pale. Are you alright?”

Ashe didn’t bother to hide the choppiness of his harsh chuckle. “I-I’ve heard stories of things like this happening in big cities, but for it to happen to someone like me…”

“If you need protection, then you’re in the right place,” Edelgard said. "Agree to work for me and I can ensure your protection, just like I did tonight.”

Edelgard held her hand out to him. But despite his better instincts, Ashe simply shook his head, his hand remaining on the table.

He lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes before he spoke. “Please take no offense to this, but I would prefer not to become further involved with the clans… I’m only here to see a friend.”

Even without seeing her face, he could sense her disappointment. The silence lingered in the air for a moment before she began speaking once more. “Well, that’s unfortunate, Christophe.”

Ashe heard her chair scrape against the floor as she stood. He winced, shutting his eyes tightly. He waited for the blade to fall on his neck, or for the knife to be plunged into his back. Either one the inevitable punishment for turning down an invitation from the leader of the Black Eagles.

Instead, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

“I understand your sentiment. I’m sure most of us would prefer not to be involved in such business.”

He looked up, his eyes scanning her face, gaze catching on her soft smile.

“But if you ever find yourself in trouble, my invitation still stands.”

Ashe thought he could be honest, at least once. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t imagine why you’d want someone like _me_ working for you.”

“Well, I simply enjoyed my conversation with you. And you can gain a lot of information from even just a short conversation such as this. You should consider your amiability a skill.” She stepped back from him then, removing her hand to pick up her glass. “Enjoy your drink, but don’t forget my offer.”

“Well, um, thank you, Edelgard.”

She waved before disappearing behind the same door that Jeritza had gone into.

As soon as she left, Ashe had to fight the urge to jut up from his seat and dash to the exit and get to Nuvelle’s. But realizing how suspicious that would be, Ashe instead took a deep breath, finally relaxing and settling back into his chair. His shoulders felt sore as the tension was released from them. But the sensation only lasted for a moment though, as his body began to heal itself almost immediately.

 _One of the perks of being a vampire,_ the voice in his head sneered as he reached for his glass. _Would be nice if it came with better alcohol tolerance, too._

Ashe brought the glass to his lips. He could taste the blood mixed into it immediately, the liquid setting his nerves at ease. The effect was amplified by the burning, spicy sting of the alcohol. There was a sly tang of apples hidden within it behind the taste of the blood-

Ashe lowered his glass immediately, eyes darting around the bar. But all around him was indifference, the other patrons long since drawn back into their own conversations since his initial outburst with Edelgard. His nerves were beginning to still until his eyes drifted over to the bar and met those of the barkeep.

Her glare deepened.

Ashe gulped.

But just as suddenly she turned away, her long hair flipping over her shoulder as she turned around to address another customer.

Ashe took the opportunity and stood up, trying to keep his movements as natural as possible as he placed a few coins on the table. Without a second glance back, he exited The Flame Emperor.

Ashe dug his hands into his pockets and began walking back towards the heart of the city. He tried keeping his nerves in check and his pace in tune with the other people around him. But it was well past midnight now, most of their movements slowed by hours of imbibing. He pushed his way through a couple of women who had begun clawing at each other, ignoring their curses as he pushed further and further into the city.

Eventually the crowds dissipated and the streets emptied. His stomach flipped wildly, his nerves burning hotter with each step he took. He wondered if the barkeep would appear behind him at any moment, catching on to his ruse and ending him then and there. Or worse he imagined Jeritza would be the one to do it. He did reject an invitation from his leader, after all. But even worse than the feeling that he’d end up with a knife in his back was the thought of what awaited him- or wouldn’t- at Nuvelle’s.

 _Would it really be such an awful thing if Yuri were hurt?_ that voiced quipped in the back of his head, the one that had become more bold in its taunts since he had been turned all those years ago. Maybe it would be better to free himself of the person who had confined him to this life, who now sent him on a fool’s errand throughout the city that was sure to leave him maimed, or worse yet, dead. 

_Just like Balthus._

Ashe’s fists clenched at his side as he pushed on, barely registering when he had pushed open the doors to Nuvelle and begun his ascent up the stairs. He didn’t even bother to glance at Hapi sitting behind the desk, knowing his eyes would just find her inevitable glare.

_All those nights, all those words shared in room 401 had to mean something, right?_

He reached his door, fumbling to get his key out of his pocket when the door behind him suddenly burst open. He turned to find the amber eyed man standing behind him, eyeing him.

“Is there something you need?” Ashe asked as he quickly glanced over his shoulder before sticking his key into the lock. He needed to leave a message for Yuri, and hope they responded. Ashe didn’t have the time to deal with another asshole tonight.

“Don’t play that damn guitar so late. Kept me up all night.” The man responded, his voice curt and laced with fatigue.

“Duly noted,” Ashe replied as the lock clicked and he swung the door open. “Guess we’re even now, though.”

Ashe shut the door behind him quickly, barely registering the quizzical expression on the other man’s face.

Ashe immediately sprinted to the notepad on the nightstand to hastily scrawl a message when the bathroom door flew open.

His heart jumped into his throat. He raised his hands, preparing to strike. But the instinct dissipated immediately when he recognized the person who stood before him.

“Oh thank the goddess, Yuri! I thought you’d been killed.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, but it quickly fell again. Ashe’s relief died down suddenly as he saw the glint of sweat radiating off of Yuri’s skin.

“Why would you think that?” they asked. Their footsteps were heavy as they approached Ashe.

“Paranoid, I suppose.” He gulped, the lie tasting sour on his tongue. “Being out in the city.”

“Well sorry to add more troubles to your plate, songbird, but we’ve got a problem.”

“I didn’t mess up already, did I?”

“That remains to be seen,” Yuri replied as they took a final step, placing them directly in front of Ashe. The flames in their eyes were visible once more and burning through Ashe.

“Hilda’s been attacked.”

“Wait, what?! When? Who did this?” Ashe sputtered.

“Tonight and we don’t know the perp yet, but more importantly…” Yuri’s hand cupped Ashe’s cheek, their nails grazing against his skin ever so slightly. “The only thing we could get her to say before she passed out was your name.”

Ashe gulped.

Yuri leaned closer, the stench of vanilla and blood radiating off of them. 

“Now what could she have possibly meant by that, friend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a biggun (to me at least lol), so thank you for making it all the way to the end! School started back up recently so forgive me if the next update is a little late as I adjust. I work better with schedules though so who knows, they might actually come a bit faster in the future. Let's all bide our time and hold out hope haha.
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Catatune) if you want to chat, although fair warning I post a lot more art than fic.


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